


Making Up For Lost Time

by sergeantwinter



Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: 5+1 Things, Captain America: Civil War (Movie), M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-09
Updated: 2016-09-09
Packaged: 2018-08-14 01:13:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,276
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7993189
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sergeantwinter/pseuds/sergeantwinter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Every touch between them is intimate, but one more so than the others.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Making Up For Lost Time

**Author's Note:**

> Also known as "there wasn't enough physical contact in civil war"

As Steve stared at the picture of himself in the journal, the air in the room changed: he wasn’t alone anymore. Steve took a moment to prepare himself for the possibility of seeing his best friend in the flesh again for the first time in two years, for the possibility of a fight if this wasn’t _Bucky,_ but the winter soldier. As he turned around, it felt as though all his breath had been pushed out of him. There he was. He looked older and rougher, but it was unmistakably _Bucky._  Bucky looked wary but not defensive, which Steve took as a good sign.

“You know me?” Steve asked.

“You're Steve. I read about you in the museum.” He waited a beat, and the look in his eyes softened. “You're my best friend.”

Steve's shoulders slumped in relief – it felt as though he'd been pulled taut by puppet strings for the last two years and the strings had just been cut. He couldn’t move fast enough to bridge the gap between them as he crossed the room and pulled Bucky into a hug, squeezing him as tight as he could without hurting him. Bucky’s arms wrapped around Steve's back, pulling him impossibly closer.

Steve let out a shaky breath. “I'm glad you're back.”

“Yeah, me too.”

 

*

 

Steve was out of the car before it had stopped rolling. He had to get between Bucky and the masked man, to deescalate the situation before the SWAT team started firing. He was entirely focused on Bucky, poised to fight in the middle of the road, an easy target. In the back of his mind Steve knew that Bucky could pull his own weight in situations like these – he'd been on the run for years, after all – but Steve's protective instincts had kicked in. Steve sprinted down the road and came to a halt in front of Bucky just as the SWAT team began to close in. Steve reached back to grab Bucky's arm as though creating a barrier between him and everyone who wanted to hurt him. When T’Challa took off his mask, Bucky grabbed Steve's wrist with a grip like a vice.

 

*

 

The next time they touched, Bucky was trapped in a literal vice. As much as Steve hated to do this to him, it had been necessary. He had to think about Sam’s safety too and they didn’t know if Bucky would be himself when he woke up, so this was just a precaution.

“Steve?”

“I'm here, Buck. Is it you?” Steve tried not to let any fear creep into his voice.

“You used to put newspaper in your shoes,” Bucky smiled, looking up at Steve. Steve couldn’t help but smile back; it was such a trivial detail for Bucky to remember. Steve walked to over to loosen the clamp, allowing Bucky to slide his arm out. He rubbed his metal wrist as though soothing a phantom pain. Steve heard Sam’s footsteps as he left the room.

Steve crouched down in front of Bucky and took the metal hand in both of his flesh ones; the feeling of cool metal was strange but not bad, and Bucky squeezed Steve’s hand before letting his own go slack in Steve's grasp.

“Thanks for pulling me out of the water,” Bucky said. Steve grinned.

“I should say the same to you.”

 

*

 

The buzzing of Natasha’s widow bites echoed through Steve's head as he and Bucky ran to the quinjet. Steve's heart was pounding as he climbed into the pilot’s seat and pushed the quinjet to maximum thrust. He tried not to look down as they flew away. Steve piloted the jet manually until they were a safe distance from the fight, then put it into autopilot. Bucky was sat on one of the benches; he touched one of the cuts on his face and winced.

“Remind me to thank Natasha the next time we see her. And to apologise to her,” Bucky said. His mouth twisted as he remembered what she’d said, and he looked ashamed. Steve pulled a first aid kit from one of the storage units in the wall and kneeled in front of Bucky.

“Hey,” he said, bringing Bucky back to the present. Bucky watched him with said eyes as he pulled an antiseptic wipe from the box and ripped the packet open with his teeth. He reached up to Bucky’s face before hesitating. “This is going to sting a bit.” Bucky just nodded, and Steve gently cleaned up his face. When he had cleaned off the blood as best he could, he rummaged in the box to see if there was anything else useful in there. He snorted as he came across something obviously packed by Tony – a pack of Dora the Explorer band aids. He held them up for Bucky to see.

“Do you need one of these?” he asked, trying to look serious but he couldn’t help the laughter in his eyes.

“I don’t think a sticker of a little girl is going to do me any favours against five more winter soldiers,” Bucky said, but took the pack from Steve anyway, a smile tugging at his mouth. Steve gave an amused sigh as he sat down next to Bucky and leant into him, pressing their arms together.

 

*

 

Steve landed the quinjet several feet away from the doors of the compound. The cold wind whipped Steve’s face as the back of the quinjet retracted, revealing the half buried compound and miles of snow in every direction. Bucky’s metal fist clenched and unclenched as he stood by Steve's side.

“Remember that time at Coney Island where you nearly spent all our rent money?” Steve asked.

Bucky chuckled, looking down at his feet as he remembered. “I really thought I could win that bear.”

Steve slung an arm around Bucky’s shoulders, broader than he remembered. “I know you did, pal.”

The desolate snow fields of Siberia stretched out before them but Steve saw Coney Island, Bucky's pinched eyebrows as he tried to win a prize for a girl, his grin when she kissed him even though he lost. Bucky rested his head on Steve's shoulder and stared into the distance with a smile. Steve liked to think they were picturing the same thing.

 

*

 

The ride down in the elevator was quiet but tense, the air filled with thoughts of the inevitable. The pair was standing so close that Steve could almost feel Bucky’s breath. Steve couldn’t imagine what was going through Bucky’s head – he'd been tortured in this place. He would do anything to protect Bucky from this, but he knew that this had to be done – they couldn’t let Zemo gain control of the other soldiers. The elevator juddered to a halt but neither of them moved.

“Can I kiss you?”

Steve’s eyes widened in surprise. “What?”

Bucky took a step closer. “I've remembered a lot these past couple years, from before the war. I know we were never like _this,_ but I think I wanted to be.”

“What about what you want now?”

“I want to kiss you.”

Steve licked his lips, sucked in a breath, let it out again. “Okay.”

Bucky cupped Steve's face in his flesh hand and stroked his cheek, reverent. He brought his other hand up to Steve's waist and leant in. The kiss was soft, simultaneously full of regret for what could have been but with the promise of more to come. Steve wrapped his own hand around the back of Bucky’s neck, pressing in closer, trying to convey just how much he had missed him. After this, they had a lot of lost time to make up for. 


End file.
